The Healing of Percy Weasley
by JumpingBean42
Summary: Percy Weasley betrayed his family to follow his own ambitions at the Ministry. Even after proven wrong, he did not have the courage to return to them. This is the story of how he found his courage once more.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: So recently I was re-reading the entire Harry Potter series back to back in my free time and in the 7th book I was intrigued by the fact that when Percy showed up he said Aberforth had notified him as to what was happening. I was interested in how exactly Aberforth and Percy Weasley came to be associated, and how he met Audrey, and hence, this story came to be. I haven't written fanficiton in a very long time, so please be kind!

Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters or anything you read in the books. If I did I wouldn't still be paying student loans from my undergraduate degree that I completed nine years ago, I would have a much better car, and I could stop renting and actually buy a house.

_"You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart…"_

The familiar lines from his youth rang in his ears as Percy Weasley pondered his glass of firewhiskey, feeling utterly miserable. He knew he was wallowing in his despair. Ever since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had shown himself at the Ministry everything Percy believed was certain and fact had seemed to collapse around him. He had trusted the Minister, believing what Fudge had said. He was the Minister for Magic. He had some of the best wizards in the world working for him, and Percy was honored that Fudge had included him on his staff as an assistant. He felt important, essential even, and he had relished that feeling. He turned on his family, putting his trust in the Ministry, rather than the people who loved him, or rather, once loved him. He supposed that was all different now.

Pride had blinded him. He knew that now. It had been his downfall. Percy realized this fallacy that very night. He was many things, but he was not stupid. However, pride kept him from admitting his horrible mistake. It was much easier to continue to ignore his family and follow the orders of the newly appointed Minister, Scrimgeour. Besides, it had been quite obvious when he escorted Scrimgeour to the Burrow on Christmas Day from the reception he received he was not welcome by most of his family. He decided that day he would continue to follow orders, and continue on his was, blinded by pride, yet again.

When the Ministry fell, he felt he had no other choice but to continue on his chosen path of obedience, and every single day he grew more and more ashamed of himself. The Sorting Hat must had made a mistake all those years ago. He was not brave at all. He was prideful, and he had craved power above all else. Perhaps Slytherin would have been a better fit, because he certain felt that he did not have the courage that made someone worthy of Gryffindor House. Each day he sank more and more into his misery, longing for the past that he knew would never come again.

And so, Percy Weasley now sat, staring at this drink in the dingy bar in Hogsmeade, feeling lost and terribly sorry for himself. He did not know why he had come here every evening since the Ministry had fallen. He supposed it was hope that his sister would come here on a trip to the village. Ginny had clearly been angry the last time he saw her, but he knew she was more reasonable than Fred, George, or Ron. Bill and Charlie would also probably hear him out, but he didn't have the courage to face his disappointed older brothers. He didn't really have the courage to seek Ginny out either, but if he encountered her accidentally… perhaps he would find the strength.

She never came though. The bar always seemed to be empty, save a few wizards who huddled in the dark corners whispering. Selling illegal goods, no doubt. The old Percy would have puffed up in indignation and raved against these acts, but now he knew that these men were likely Death Eaters, and he really had no authority to question them anyway. It was better to keep his head down, and listen, hoping for at least some news of his family.

This Saturday had been particularly slow at the Hog's Head. In fact, Percy had been the only one in all day. He had assumed his now usual place at the bar, consuming firewhiskey after firewhiskey, hoping it would help him forgot what a failure he was. Sadly, it wasn't working. It never did.

"You, Weasley, you better be getting on now." The barman suddenly grunted as he wiped a glass with a dingy rag. "You don't want to be out after curfew, do you? Best not to cause trouble."

Percy lifted his head to look at the man. He wanted to say that he most certainly did want to cause trouble, and if he had half the courage of any other member of his family he'd blast every Death Eater who tried to stop him into oblivion, but all he could manage was a slightly slurred question.

"How'd you know I'm a Weasley?"

The barman snorted in amusement and gave him a critical look. "I've got eyes, don't I?"

The red hair. Being from a family with such distinctive features was often problematic. Percy sighed and finished what would apparently be his last drink. "Right."

"Beside, you've been my only regular for the past four months. Did you really think I wouldn't know who you were, boy?"

"I shouldn't be a Weasley." Percy said, throwing the money he owed for his day of drinking on the bar and climbing unstably to his feet. "I don't deserve the name. Don't have the heart for it. I'm not like my parents, or my brothers, or my even my sister. I'm a terrible brother and a bloody coward. That's all there is to it. A bloody, goddamn coward!"

He swung his arm for emphasis, a terrible idea when you weren't altogether stable to begin with, and ended up tripping over the stool he once occupied, swearing under his breath as he tried to find his footing once more. His glasses were now askew, and his appearance was far more rumpled than he usually found acceptable. The old Percy would have turned up his nose at his own appearance if he could see himself now. The perfect prefect, now a messy and miserable drunk.

As he stumbled about, the barman studied him with his piercing blue eyes, as if he could appraise his worth just by looking at him. The gaze felt somewhat familiar, and not because he'd been sitting at his bar for the past four months. There was something else about those eyes that Percy, in his hazy state, could not place.

"Son, I know a thing or two about bad brothers." The barman said; his guff tone softening slightly as he addressed the younger man. "Whatever you did, if you want to mend if, you're going to have to work for it. Sitting here won't do you good. Though it will help me, seeing how you're just about my only customer these days."

"How?" Percy wailed, running a hand through his distinctive Weasley hair. "It's too late to make amends. They won't listen. Nothing I can do but keep my head down. I'm a failure."

The barman just shook his head and said nothing.

"I wish things were different." Percy continued, misery and self-loathing dripping from every word. "I wish there was something I could do, but there isn't."

"Isn't there?" The barman raised an eyebrow at the younger man.

"There isn't!"

He just shook his head, and came around the bar, taking Percy's arm and silently guided him upstairs to one of the bedrooms. Percy protested in vain, reaching for his wand, but his hands suddenly weren't working quite right, and fumbled uselessly.

"You're drunk, Weasley." The barman grunted, back to his usual gruff tone. "You're in no condition to Apparate home. Sleep it off here. We'll talk in the morning."

He had a point, and Percy knew it, so he gave up protesting. "Wait!" He shouted at the man's retreating back. "You never have told me your name!"

"Aberforth." The man grunted over his shoulder. "Aberforth Dumbledore."

And with that, he was gone, leaving a shocked and rather unstable drunk Percy in his wake.

"But that would mean…" Percy started to reason, and then shook his head, as if to shake away any attempt at logical thought. Right now he wouldn't be able to walk or think straight if he tried. It was time to give in to that blissful, mindless drunken slumber. His troubles would no doubt be waiting for him in the morning, but for now… he just wanted to sleep.

Author's Note: Please review! I would love to know if someone is actually reading this and if it's worth the effort to continue. Audrey will show up soon, I promise… I just wanted to establish that Percy is miserable and really down on himself at the moment… poor guy. He needs a hug.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Unwelcomed light filtered in through the dirty windows of the Hog's Head the next morning. Percy Weasley groaned and covered his face with his pillow, unwilling to wake up just yet. His head was pounding, and he wasn't entirely sure how he ended up here. Slowly, the events the previous evening came back to him and he groaned again. Too drunk to Apparate home, forced to stay at the Inn, how completely humiliating. Could he possibly sink lower?

Slowly, he sat up, looking around the room. He knew it could have been a lot worse, and really, he should be grateful the barman had the sense to have him stay rather than wander Hogsmeade. An encounter with Death Eaters in that state would have surely ended badly. At least no one else had witnessed his disgraceful state. No one except….

Dumbledore!

The barman was Aberforth Dumbledore! Percy had read Rita Skeeter's scandalous biography. He wasn't sure how much to believe, but he was curious. He knew Aberforth was the late Headmaster's brother. He knew the rumors surrounding the pair, published by Skeeter. He was instantly curious. It was an intriguing topic, and for the first time in a long time he felt something other than misery and despair.

However, after a moment his good sense caught up to him. He shouldn't ask. It would likely be a painful topic, and he owed the barman his respect after last night. Still, he had to wonder about his comment on the subject of "bad brothers". Was it himself he was referring to? Or the Headmaster Percy had grown-up respecting and idolizing, only to later doubt as an adult?

Rising and straightening his robes, Percy stopped at the sink in the corner to splash water on his face, and straightened his appearance as best he could. He slowly went downstairs, planning to apologize profusely to Aberforth Dumbledore, and to promise never to be in such a state again. He planned his impending speech in his head as he went down the stairs, squinting a little about the light that filtered into the bar through the windows.

"Ah. So you lived." Aberforth greeted him. Yet again, the bar itself was empty. It was still morning, but Percy doubted there would be a flood of customers today. "Come have a bite."

Percy obeyed, thanking him as he ate a bit of toast. He could think of a million questions, but felt it would be wrong to ask any of them. When he'd finished, he noticed Aberforth had been watching him. He was about to ask why he was doing this when the barman spoke again.

"You said you wished there was something you could do. Did you mean that?"

Percy was caught off guard. Something told him he ought to seriously consider his answer, and so he took a long sip of pumpkin juice, before answering. "I did."

Aberforth gave him the same appraising look he had given him last night. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to have found it, because suddenly he stood and was moving towards the stairs again. "Come with me."

Percy, confused and bewildered, but curious as to what he was going to find at the top of those stairs that was so important, followed as the barman led him down the hallway, away from the room he slept in last night, to a much smaller and darker room. So dark he could barely make out the bed and chair that barely fit in the tiny little room. It was stuffy, as if it hadn't been opened in years.

"You awake?"

Surprised, Percy was about to answer Aberfoth, when a much smaller, weaker, and female voice replied.

"Yes."

Aberforth lit his wand to reveal a pale young woman, sitting up in the bed. Percy couldn't make out her features that well in the darkened room, but her pale skin seemed to glow as the wand light fell upon her. He could tell right away she wasn't well. Injured perhaps, and very week, but her lively eyes glittered in the darkness.

"Audrey, this is Percy. Percy, Audrey." Aberforth made the introductions. "Percy is going to take you to his place and take care of you now."

"What?!" Percy stared at the barman, totally taken aback. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't this.

Aberforth shot Percy a warning look, and then turned his attention back to Audrey. "Rest, I'll bring up some food for you. You'll need you strength. You," He indicated Percy. "Come help."

As they went back down the hall and stairs Percy started to voice his protests. He was in no state to take care of someone. He didn't even know this woman! Besides, if she was ill, she needed care, and he was no healer! His flat was hardly a safehouse! He was being watched, he knew it!

He was beaten to his protests by Aberforth, who seemed to be reading his mind. "She's Muggle-Born. Escaped from Snatchers as far as I can tell. Must have tortured her something awful, because she was in a bad state when I found her. Didn't even talk for a week. I've been keeping her here, helping as best I can, but she can't stay. Too many Deatheaters poking around my bar for me to care for her proper."

"But I-"

"You said you wished there was something you could do." Aberforth reminded him. Something in his tone was very final. "Here's something. It's a start."

Percy sighed, knowing that he was right. If he couldn't help his family, or Harry Potter, or fight the Death Eaters, or stand up to the Ministry, the least he could do was try to help this woman, whoever she was.

"She'll have to stay in my flat. I'm being watched too, you know." He pointed out.

"As long as there's food and maybe some light, it's a far better place than that broom closet she's in now." Aberforth set about putting together a tray of food to take upstairs. "Give her an hour and she'll be ready to travel."

Protests were useless, so Percy just nodded, calculating how he was going to get a weak and injured witch into his flat without being noticed. He supposed he would have to deal with how he was going to care for her once they got there. One step at a time. That would be the best approach.

Even though this was going to be difficult and dangerous, Percy had to admit, it did feel good to finally be doing something. Even if it was just helping one witch that he just met.

Not a long chapter, but it's something! I actually have the next one almost done and am hoping to have some writing time over the weekend. Thanks, samdeco, for reviewing. I hope you enjoyed the next chapter! One of the many things I love about those books are all the characters and "behind the scenes" (I guess you could say) stories that must be going on. And I've always loved Percy. The rule follower appeals to the teacher in me!

Everyone else, or whoever else is reading this, please review. I would love to hear from you!


End file.
